


shards of my shattered memory of yours (alex turner ff)

by shinidie



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinidie/pseuds/shinidie
Summary: the rooftop of the hospital shes admitted for her whole life is her only escape to reality.





	shards of my shattered memory of yours (alex turner ff)

**Author's Note:**

> all characters are lowcaps. ehehehe forgive me its bad. just a random scene in my head

the hem of my hospital gown and my wavy hair lightly flies along the gentle wind of the dusk. the mesmerizing sight here at the rooftop of the hospital laid before my eyes is therapeutic, more effective than those expensive medicines im obliged to take every several hours. it never gave me the soothing feel, nor calm the raging tornado and whirling hurricane inside me. but the beauty of the nature does. if only i could invent a pill by it, i would happily take massive amount of it and build a stunning landscape inside me; and get overdosed. but sadly, its more than impossible. 

comfortable silence was reigning but soon ruined by the creak of the door behind me, indicating that someone other than me is here. i was so drawn to fading vibrant hues of the sky to glance at the door and see the person whos responsible of the sound. 

the persons footsteps sang a reckless serenade as it gets nearer. and when my peripheral vision caught the persons shadow, the smell of the marlboro became distinct to my nose. i decided to see who it was. 

ive seen this man visits nick, the man whos admitted infront of my room, a few times before, but never had a chance to talk to him, even if i badly want to. we only shared a couple of eye contact, nothing more. besides, i dont know how to hold actual conversation with a stranger. ive been bedridden all my life, what can i do?

but this man is another example of those wonders of the nature. aside from the sky, he is that type of sight i would gladly stare all day. he is exceptionally beautiful. from his fluffy brown hair that falls behind the nape of his neck, plus his curls. i have always been wanting to play with it. 

as the smoke of his cigarette fades along the hopelessness in my heart that ill never get close to him, our eyes met. one more thing that i love about him is his chocolate brown eyes. its the type of eyes id like to get lost to. 

"such an empty eyes you have."

just like his eyes, his voice is as deep as marianas trench. it has thick yorkshire accent, which made it even euphoric. oh how lovely would it be to hear my name being called by him. 

"the more i stare, the more i get sucked into the void inside it," he threw the lit cigarette across us, and then sat at the concrete floor beside me. i did the same. "ah, wheres my manners. my name is alex." 

i only watched him speak. listening intently to every word that left his mouth as i continue to stare at his eyes, completely forgotten about the sky, the reason why i came here. i bet he is weirded out by me, but i cant help it. he is like a drug. the drug my soul has been craving for, and now that he is here beside me, my soul demands for more. he is addicting. 

"are you always that silent, love? it makes me want to find those lost words in your lips and taste it all day, no matter how bittersweet it is." 

i dont remember eating butterflies today but i can feel them inside my stomach. i never felt something like this, but every single part of my body responded on what he said. i felt my body tense up. my god, what have he done? 

i flashed on a small smile, "im afraid that lost words were not the only thing you can find in my lips. maybe the whole galaxy, made up from constellations of morphine and broken dreams." 

my body froze when he pulled me close to him by my waist. i can now get to see his face very clearly. i can now see the minimal flaws in his face― flaws are meant to dislike, right? but why do i love it? those little bumps in his cheeks makes him more beautiful. and oh, dont get me started with his eyes.

"do you mind if i name one after myself?" he whispered before crashing his lips against mine. 

his lips tasted like distorted colours, with a faint taste of heartache. and that, i realised that the depth of his eyes were a facade; and there lies a deep chasm of sadness and misery.

but i dont mind hurting myself by the shards of his shattered heart.


End file.
